


The Simplicity of Touch

by feedthegrimmjows (Dance_Elle_Dance)



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/M, First Time, Silver Millennium Era, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23205484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dance_Elle_Dance/pseuds/feedthegrimmjows
Summary: Venus makes the first move, for being a shrinking violet has never been in her nature.(Originally posted on 8/19/17.)
Relationships: Aino Minako/Kunzite
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	The Simplicity of Touch

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long time ago, after a long time of not writing anything of this sort. So I apologize if it is cringe-inducing, I just remember really wanting to write these two and this just kind of...happened. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this repost!

His fingers grace the apple of her cheek, softly, almost as if they were the suggestion of a touch rather than the touch itself. He watches as she closes her eyes, hears her breath hitch, sees her lips tremble the faintest amount. Blood rises to her face, heating his fingers ever so slightly.

"K...Kunzite..."

Venus breathes his name. She attempts to inhale, exhale, but finds it in vain. There is no rhyme or reason to her thoughts - they are all racing, restless, running through her mind like water. She is unable to grasp at them, and they slip through her wanting fingers. Because she so _needs, wants_ to say something at this moment other than his name.

The silence between the two of them is palpable. She can feel it rolling over her skin, seeping into her pores, becoming part of her. No words could describe this moment - if she even tried, it would do it an injustice.

He's looking at her as if she's something odd, yet something familiar. There is no trace of that former hatred, no inkling that he once despised her more than anything on this planet, or the countless others. There is warmth in his eyes - rather than looking like hard blue gemstones, they now look like the roiling ocean, conflicted and calm all at the same time.

"Kunzite..." she repeats, more forcefully yet still quiet.

His fingers still on her cheek, he inhales - and if she didn't know him better, she would've sworn there was a shakiness to the action.

"My lady," he breathes, his face all quiet contemplation and hard lines. His brow furrows. Venus, daring just to touch him the way he's touching her, reaches out a hand and smooths the tension resting there. If anything, it causes him to tense more. She moves that hand away from his forehead and lets it stray to his bone white hair.

Something in her stirs, willing her to take action. She is Venus, after all, and being a shrinking violet is not in her nature.

Her hand moves downward, tangling in his hair along the way, before it arrives at the base of his neck. Kunzite has not moved since her fingers made contact with his skin.

"My...lady..." His voice is strained, as if it hurts him to be so close.

Venus grips the back of his neck and pulls him to her. Their lips meet, and the effect is electric.

Kunzite takes a moment to respond and, instead of the kiss making his posture stiffen even more in surprise, his muscles relax, becoming almost like liquid as they wrap around her and pull her tightly to his body. She revels in the touch, the press of her breasts against his firm chest, the way his arms are like iron bars as they encircle her. She wraps her arms around his neck and tries to press herself more closely to him.

_We aren't close enough,_ her thoughts brush against her, _we can never be close enough._

One arm moves around to encircle her waist while the other wraps around her shoulder, hand fisting itself in her golden hair. He moans into her mouth, a glacier melting under her touch. His hands find the straps of her bright gown and pushes them off her shoulders. Kunzite seems to catch himself before he moves any further. Those serious eyes look at her with an unasked question.

"Yes," she responds. " _Yes._ "

Kunzite claims her mouth yet again. She finds his bottom lip and pulls it between her teeth, earning another moan. His hands, those large and capable hands, slide the dress from her. It pools around her feet like molten gold. She knows she should be cold, but nothing about this moment is _cold_. Her body is warm, alive with desire, nerves thrumming with every brush of his fingers.

Even through her aroused state, she chides, "You are far too clothed, my lord."

"I'm no lord," he scoffs. However, there is a faint embarrassment to him as he sheds his shirt and trousers. They join the pile of shimmering gold on the floor. The look of the discarded clothes together is almost erotic; Venus beckons to him with a finger, teasing, light, playful, even in this moment, in this moment that could - that _will_ change everything.

Kunzite approaches her and cups her cheek in his hand. His hand is blazing where it connects with her skin, sending a line of heat straight down to her core. She steps forward into the kiss and their bare bodies connect for the first time, earning a shuddering exhale from the both of them.

He presses her backward, backward, until her knees hit the bed. The two of them fall onto the mattress, a tangle of limbs and hair. Venus gives a moan as she feels the weight of his body on hers. She strokes her fingertips along his back, feeling the hard muscle that resides there, ghosting over his shoulder blades. She watches his face, watches his eyes close as she continues that very simple task. He leans in and captures her mouth yet again. She arches into his embrace, his hands tucking neatly behind her back, bringing her closer still. Venus can feel him, hard, against her thigh, and it causes that uncomfortable feeling in her center to intensify.

His hands, calloused from training and yet smooth as an aristocrat's, roam over her. They slide up do her breast, fingers lightly pinching a nipple. She gasps and gives a desperate little moan that is quite unlike her. The action would mortify her if she wasn't so focused on what he was doing to her. His mouth replaces his fingers and he sucks and gently bites while the other hand worries the opposite breast. She gasps his name, breathing heavily as he swirls his tongue in a particularly pleasant manner before leaving her breasts and looking in her eyes. He smirks, and until then she hadn't realized she was rubbing herself against his thigh.

Kunzite's eyes are kind, soft, but predatory. She opens her mouth to say his name, but he begins to kiss down her abdomen, going lower, lower, lower still -

" _Oh,_ " she gasps, a strangled sound that takes her off guard. She grasps handfuls of his hair in her fists and keens as he circles the sensitive spot in her center with his tongue. Slowly, so slowly, it is almost maddening. She tries to call out his name, but it is lost somewhere in her mind, muddled thoughts and all. Venus presses his face closer, _closer, she needs him, oh god she needs him, please, please, faster, please -_

She comes undone in an almost violent way, back arching off the bed. Somewhere during this, Kunzite had slid two fingers inside her; she rocks against them as his tongue quickly moves over her, faster and faster, drawing out the sensation so much it is hard for her to think straight.

His name is a plea on her lips. Her eyes closed, she can hardly tolerate the waves of pleasure overcoming her. "Please...please, Kunzite."

Kunzite is suddenly kissing her; she can taste herself on his lips. Her hands reach down in her stupor, and one circles around him. He tenses, feeling her grip on him; a heady moan escapes him.

"Are you still sure?" he asks, voice husky.

"Yes," she breathes, "I'm always sure with you."

Something about those words shatters something in his self control. Kunzite hovers above her, strong arms flanking either side of her head. She reaches up and runs her hands through that hair, soft like fresh snow. She reaches down and guides him into her. He enters her, groans at the feeling of her. She is everywhere, and he can't escape her.

He doesn't want to.

Venus moans, adjusting to his size, and he begins to rock his hips, back and forth, slowly at first, so painfully slowly. Kunzite kisses her shoulder as he pushes into her again and again, faster and faster, a rhythmic motion that has her head swimming, her voice calling out his name between moans, again and again.

Kunzite leans down finds her lips again, his thrusts as desperate as her attempts to match his pace. "Venus," he groans. "I love you, Venus."

And like that, he finds his release, and she follows, shaking and chanting his name as if it were a mantra. Kunzite collapses on top of her, careful to not crush her with his weight. Venus does not seem to mind, though, as she runs her hands through his now-sweaty hair. She breathes harshly, unevenly, and is unable to control the tremors that shake her body. She presses a kiss to his brow.

"I love you, too, Kunzite."

Something within him relaxes as soon as she says the words, and he buries his face in her neck, breathing her in, almost desperately.

The two lay there, tangled in one another, and Venus eventually finds sleep while counting the beats of his heart.


End file.
